Outsiders
by fiesa
Summary: Sion, Remy and Ronee have nothing in common. Except… Four-chaptered OneShot.
1. First Story: Sion

**Outsiders**

_Summary: Sion, Remy and Ronee have nothing in common. Except… Four-chaptered OneShot._

_Warnings: Experiment. I never used this point of view before.  
_

_Set: Story-unrelated, before Vol1_

_Disclaimer: Standards apply. No, I'm not Svetlana Chmakova. If I was, I would be drawing, not writing. _

_

* * *

_**I.**_  
_

You don't hate this place.

Instead of being at home all by yourself, you would rather be here, even if you don't feel like you belong.

Which is strange, regarding your status here.

Every school is similar and you've seen many schools. Funny how your life sometimes seems to be like one of some of the children you've seen on human TV sometimes, when you were younger and there was nothing to do and too much loneliness to bear in order to not turn on the apparatus. In human schools, you've learned, it always is the same: there is the clique of the cool but brainless guys, and the pretty but dumb girls. There are the nerds everyone ignores and the outsiders nobody cares for.

You are pretty and that's your advantage. Your _looks_. Your hair is flame-colored, your eyes are bright green and your face is even and expressive. You aren't tall but you have a nice figure. Actually, you're not pretty. You are beautiful.

Which makes you, per definition, head of the "pretty but dumb"-clique.

How conveniently reality fits the dreams of countless humans.

The girls around you – the girls that call themselves your friends – giggle and toss their hair back as Nicholas passes. As always, the vampire attempts a flirt but you show him you're not interested and he directs his attention towards the rest of the girls. They all are moderately to averagely pretty. They cluster around you, follow you wherever you go and do as you say and because it seems it is just the way it is supposed to be you let them do so. You sit at one certain table in the cafeteria every day, listen to the giggling and babbling, cooing and flirting going on around you and wonder why it feels so strange. So _wrong._ But nobody seems to notice, so it must be you. And because there is nobody you can talk to about that topic you don't talk about it at all.

Life is easy for you, the way it is now. You go to school, hang out with a horde of girls who try to look remotely sexy. You float through the lessons and along the packed corridors, only listening with half an ear to Verena and Marika talking about their newest outfits and _oh god, what should I wear for Nic's birthday party? His parents are out and he's going to throw a huge party, everyone will be there – even a werewolf, I heard, they say he is soooo good-looking… _Your astral wraps around your shoulders, feeling the uneasiness inside you, and you pet it lovingly but your thoughts are entirely elsewhere.

Today is just like any other day.

And then it happens.

The moment you and your… friends, for the lack of a better word, reach the cafeteria, you notice there is a girl sitting at _the_ table. You frown and Marika and Verena, Leslie and all the others immediately descend onto the poor newcomer with the fury of the just. First, they surround the girl, their hands in their hips, the most arrogant and self-righteous expression on their faces they can muster.

"What do you think you are doing here?" Marika asks. The girl looks up from the book she is reading, surprised and frightened at once, and almost knocks off her own glasses when Verena snatches away the book.

"Have you heard her, new girl? Answer!"

"I… I… I was just looking for a table to sit…", the girl stutters. She's one of the typical girls to be bullied. You have known right from the moment you have seen her and you know what will happen next. You have seen the play so many times you know it by heart.

"Well, did we invite you to sit with us?"

"N-No, but…"

"What? You think we want someone like you at our table?" The girl looks at the newcomer haughtily, takes in her artlessly plaited hair, her blouse and her skirt. She's not dressed shabby, you think, but simply… _simple._

"Does your grandma know you wear her skirts?" Leslie asks and all the girls snicker. The girl with the glasses blushes deep red and gets up so fast she almost knocks over her tray.

"Okay, I'll…"

"Wait." Verena, grinning dangerously, grabs her ponytail and makes her flinch. "I think you need a reminder of what you've done wrong so you won't repeat it in the future… What do you think? Could she use a new haircut?" Her hand flashes and then, there are blue flames dancing in her palm. You react instinctively.

"Stop it."

All the girls freeze.

"But, Sion, she…"

"I don't care about her. Let her go."

Verena pouts but lets the girl's hair go. She disappears quickly, snatching up her tray and her book and making a run for safety. There are tears in her eyes.

"Why didn't you let us play with her?" Marika demands. "She was sitting at _our table_!"

"She's not any more", you cut in and because you're their leader they shut up and don't question your actions anymore. Instead, they start talking about Nic's party again and you have time to wonder what happened before.

Why did you save the girl?

It's not like you care about her. She's just a new kid. She'll learn soon that there are social classes and distinctions in every school and she'll know her place soon. You don't care about Verena either, about her or about her getting detention as soon as Mrs. Murray finds out what she has done. Actually there is not much you care about in this school you figure and warily watch the other tables, not interested in participating in the ongoing discussion about guys, shoes and clothes. At another table, you catch the eye of a dark-haired girl who is watching you intently. You ignore her.

_What are you doing here?_

It's not the first time you ask yourself this question and as always, the obvious answer comes to your mind directly.

_You're the high school queen._

Every guy secretly dreams of undressing you right then and there. Every girl wants to have your looks. Nerds want to be as popular as you are; outsiders wish to have your status in the school's community.

You feel like you are the greatest outsider in the entire school.

You're not only pretty, you are intelligent, as well. You are _highly _intelligent. You have amazing magic skills and your astral is almost at university level, something few people have reached if they had lessons with Mrs. Murray and weren't home-schooled like you were before you entered Benjamin Theron High. The classes you have don't help much to entertain you, most of the subjects you already know. Your parents might have seldom been home but they have undertaken everything to have their only daughter educated the way the heiress of their little family empire is supposed to be educated. The only lesson you really enjoy is Mr. Roi's advanced spell class. Nobody of your clique is in this class, so here is your chance to be someone else. Unfortunately, the other students don't forget you are the queen and treat you accordingly. So you just sit there, take notes and enjoy the complex assignments the mage gives to your class and for once, here, you are an outsider and not an outsider disguised as a popular student.

After class, you go back into your world of faked glitter and glamour, popularity and stupidity and loneliness, and you're glad, at least, that you're not sitting at home alone, staring at a TV screen or setting on fire random things.

Why you feel the way you feel, you cannot say.

Maybe it is just that you are strange. You have everything those humans from those silly TV shows have: Your parents have influence and power. You have everything you want, clothes and money and parties and magic and fun. You are the head of the most popular clique in school and every girl dreams of being like you (what the guys dream, you _don't _want to know). You are beautiful and intelligent. You are obviously _not_ an outsider.

But you feel like one.

You feel like something is missing. You just can't find what it is.

_Why?_


	2. Second Story: Remy

**II.**

You don't hate this place.

You would rather be here than in the packed, cramped house full of people and electronic components. Being the second-youngest one of seven children isn't easy, neither in a normal family nor in a family of demons. Coming here is better than spending your nights with old books, machines and annoying family members. Coming here is better than nothing and at least it's not as boring as _not coming_ could be. Here, there is space; here is silence when you look for it. Here are people you don't see every minute, every hour of your life, here are people that don't know you and try to annoy you. Here, you are a nobody.

It's not hard for you to notice the apparent abyss dividing the students' body.

There are those girls, always squealing and giggling. And the sports freaks, and the scientists, the outsiders, and the nerds. Of course, you belong to the nerds. Who else doesn't really care for his looks, even if he might be what girls call _hot_? Who else never tries to belong? Who else can hack into an active pattern and find the source code of a running spell in less than half a minute? You don't, you do, and you can, but you don't feel special about it. Magic traces are like a foreign language and somehow, your mind is able to take it up easily, effortlessly. They won't hear you complaining. The first time you hack into the school's restrictive and protective spells you do it because you are bored. Nobody notices and you spend an entire week finding a way to stop others to do as you have done. Nobody has asked you for a security program and you won't ever show it to anyone. But it is interesting to develop fool-proof systems. For one week, you are happy because you have symbols and codes and active spell patterns as your companions and since you are nobody, nobody cares when you sit in the corner of a dark classroom, working on your new project.

Your grades don't suffer. _(Not that anyone at home would care.)_ You are one of the best students, if you want to be. Knowledge doesn't come to you like it comes to some others but if you work a bit, you can take it up with some of the really intelligent people.

Not that _you _care.

Sadly, after this one week, the system you've developed is safe but your work is done. For the first time in a long week, you sit at the table of the computer nerds in the cafeteria and listen to others discussing their newest program. It's nothing special, you have written three ones that are better than this, but you don't say anything. Bill and Derek are okay, you guess, but you're not at your best when you have to deal with people. There is an unspoken rule among the nerd clique: Don't talk to people who obviously don't want to talk to you. You must look like you don't want to talk to anyone because nobody talks to you. You are an outsider among outsiders, not even acknowledged by the people who are like you.

Actually, you don't care. You don't need people who just pretend to like you. You don't need people who are nice because you are good with spell systems and software. Most of the time, you are content with your life being the way it is.

The school.

The patterns.

The codes.

More than anything else, they are your friends. Running spells don't get angry at you when you come home late. Trace-finders and Code-settings and Source-magic never tell lies. Magic has no mood-swings or headaches. It's so much easier to handle than people are.

"Wow!"

The little weirn has somehow managed to get near you without you having noticed. She's glancing at your scrolls on which you just have completed a complex pattern for a new program. Her eyes are wide with innocence and honest admiration. Funnily enough, she reminds you of your little sister. Maybe that is the reason why you don't order her to leave immediately but actually wait for her to speak.

"Have you done those all by yourself?"

"Hn."

"It looks so cool! What is it?"

"A security program against Hunters."

The girl looks at him, her eyes shining, her astral mirroring her enthusiasm.

"That's so cool! Can you tell when Hunters are near, then?"

"Sometimes. It's not perfect yet."

"I want to do that, too!"

Somehow, you don't have it in you to send her away or to confront her with cruel reality.

"Do you like spell patterns and backgrounds?"

"Yes!"

"Then take the _Spells and Systems_ class next year, you'll learn to do something like that there."

She smiles a last time and leaves, skipping along. You continue with your project and wonder if you ever had that much enthusiasm.

You meet her a few days later, by chance, and you don't like what you see.

A horde of boys is ganging up on her, laughing and shouting and obviously enjoying themselves a lot. The girl is terrified, her astral not even visible. The boys are older than you, maybe the age of your brothers, and if they were here, they'd pose no problem. But it's only you, five aggressive, arrogant creatures, and a little weirn.

First rule of nerds: Leave if you don't want to get hurt.

Nerds don't fight. They use their brain rather than brute strength. You are no ordinary nerd but not even your demon powers can hold up to three weirn, a vampire and a very pissed demon. Now, you should just turn around and leave. But you don't. Instead, you carefully take out a scroll and a pen and start drawing symbols.

Suddenly, Mrs. Murray's guard spells come to life. Dark shadows move along the floor, winding and twisting, and wrap around the demon's legs. He jumps slightly in surprise and lands on the floor hard when the shadow jerks away his legs.

"What the…"

His companions, expecting an angry teacher every second, turn to flee and the little girl watches in awe as you complete the spell's programming and change it to what you want it to be. There still are tear streaks in her face. For a good measure, you let the demon who has been threatening her dance in the grip of the shadow bane. Then, you just drop him with a flick of your wrist and a line of your pen and the demon turns and runs, bellowing insults and threats.

"As empty as your brain", you murmur quietly and re-program the school's security wards so Mrs. Murray won't notice you have been hacking into them. The girl, again, comes and watches you intently. Her skin is darker than normal and her brown, curly hair is twisted back into two pony-tails. Her astral has an interesting pattern of black and white.

"What did you do?"

"I re-configured an existing spell", you tell her and surprise yourself. "It's easier than creating a new one, especially if you're not a weirn or a mage, and nobody will notice the use of magic. Which means we won't be put into detention by Mrs. Murray because we didn't do anything."

"Wow!"

Bright, brown eyes, an innocent smile.

That moment, another girl rounds the corner. She's much older than the weirn in front of him but they look like siblings. They are siblings.

"Rochelle", the girl says in a reprimanding tone. "Why didn't you wait at the entrance? I've been looking for you!"

The little girl smiles, slightly embarrassed. You are forgotten, entirely, as she stares at her older sister in a curious mix of apology and admiration.

"I'm sorry."

"Let's go."

The older girl doesn't even look at you. You watch them leave and before they disappear behind the curve, the little weirn turns around and waves. You wave back, smiling.

This is why you like this place. There are always interesting things happening.


	3. Third Story: Fate

**III.**

You didn't expect her to talk to you.

Or, even more, to wait until you have copied the last patterns from thin air in which Mr. Roi has conjured them up, packed your bag and already are on your way outside, on your way back home for today.

This is the girl you have seen before, seen in the cafeteria, seen in Mr. Roi's class. She has been watching you but you ignored her. Not because you think you have to ignore her or because she isn't worth watching (because she _is_) but because it is in your character to ignore the people until they come asking for something or showing inclination to talk to you. It's the way your parents have taught you.

She's wearing plain jeans and a nice top and her hair is brown and curly and neatly pulled back into a ponytail. Her eyes appear to be of a dark shade of violet. She steps into the light and you see they actually are brown. Later, you'll learn her eyes change color with her moods and her surroundings and you'll learn to read her mind just from her eyes. But that's later.

For now, you stop and wait for her to catch up because she's not watching you any longer, she is attempting to start a conversation.

"You're Sion, aren't you?"

"Who are you?"

The girl watches you in the same way you watch her.

"I'm Ronee."

She isn't smiling. Her face is serious and her expression watchful and somewhat closed and maybe that is why you think you might like her.

"I have been watching you for some time now."

"I noticed."

"Yes, of course." The girl doesn't seem to wonder. "I saw what you did in the cafeteria last week."

"What?"

"You stopped your followers from hurting Bianca."

"Who?"

"Bianca. The girl with the glasses – remember her?"

Oh, _that_ girl. Yes, of course you remember her. You remember her simple skirt and her untidy hair and the expression of horror as she realizes she has just made enemies.

"So what?"

The girl smiles.

"I'm going to be the Student Body President for next semester."

"Congratulations."

"I'm looking for people for the Student Council."

"I hope you'll find the right ones."

"I want you as one of them."

You stop dead, unable to believe what she just has said. Your expression would be pure incredulity if you hadn't been taught to control your expression so well.

"Me?"

"Yes."

You laugh.

"You must be joking."

"I'm dead serious."

You stare at her again. The situation is so bizarre – who'd want _you_ in his student body team?

_Nobody_.

"The mere idea is stupid."

"Is it?" The girl frowns at you, raising her eyebrows.

"You are smart. You can adapt. You are intelligent and you can rationalize. You have a strong sense of justice and you can put people back in their place. And, finally, you're a good student. I have seen what you have done with those spells we were supposed to develop last week, and I must say, I was pretty impressed."

You feel like you don't know whether to laugh or to scream.

"What if I don't want to?"

You speed up, hoping to leave her behind. You're tired and annoyed and you just want to go home right now.

_(Home to the empty, huge house, the two maid servants and the butler your parents employ because they're never there themselves.)_

The girl holds your pace without effort.

"But you _do_ want."

Now you stop. Your voice is calm and coldly polite as always.

"What makes you think that?"

The girl answers your challenging stare unflinchingly.

"I want you in my team, Sion. Think about it. Tomorrow, there will be a first meeting – join us and have a look and then you can decide whether you want to step back or not."

And then, just like that, she turns and walks away. And you stand there, frozen, because in this last sentence there was so much more than just what she said. You just can't figure out _what _it was.

You walk home, deep in thoughts, and think about the strange girl and her proposition the entire day. The next night, you walk into the Student Council's room and find the weird girl and an even weirder boy. And you realize there is no going back anymore.

* * *

You didn't expect her to talk to you.

You've already met and she hasn't even spared as much as a glance for you. Now, suddenly, she's in front of you; somehow has caught you on your way to the cafeteria. You're not hungry but the cafeteria is an interesting place for watching the different creatures of the night, watching their interactions, their behavior and their antics. You've seen her before, when you helped that little weirn girl a few weeks earlier, and now she's actually looking at you. Her eyes are dark, unreadable – they'll always be a little mystery for you, even though you'll get to know her much better in the next few years.

"Can I talk to you?"

You halt in your pace. That's strange, but strange things always have intrigued you. You muster her directly and aren't surprised when she doesn't flinch at the sight of your bright red eyes.

"Why not?"

She doesn't waste her time with small talk which makes her gain bonus points.

"Are you interested in joining the Student Council?"

Surprise shines in your eyes. You can't help it.

"Why?"

She has seen your reaction, judged you correctly, and something like a smile appears on her face. It immediately lights up her features.

"Because I think you'll be a valuable addition to my team."

"You are the Student Body President?"

"I'll be next semester."

"And who's on your team already?"

"Besides myself – nobody."

You feel your brows rise.

"Why is that?"

"First, because I just started asking people. Second, because I think there aren't many people who will be useful. Third, because nobody yet answered."

"You consider me useful for the Council?"

"Yes. You're a brilliant hacker, an intelligent person – you don't care about what people think about you but you still care about others."

You grin.

"You need a hacker?"

"Maybe. Who knows?"

Her smile is cryptic and immediately the rest of your curiosity is sparked. There is something in her eyes that tells you there is more to it that just to her little excuse, but you know enough not to ask too much.

"You need a bodyguard for your sister, too?"

Immediately, her face darkens and her eyes sparkle dangerously. You don't back away because you know she's just giving you a warning, nothing else. She's a bit like you, maybe, you think, always on guard.

"If you ever touch my sister…"

"I helped her."

"And that's the only reason I didn't burn you down the instant I saw you. Stay away from her."

You grin and nod. She relaxes. You change the topic, somewhat interested. Maybe this is something, something that is interesting, something you can devote yourself to in the same manner you devoted yourself to developing new security programs and finding breaches in protective spells.

"So how does your council work?"

"If you're interested, come to the Student Council's room tomorrow. I'll tell you and the others about duties and stuff."

You nod.

"I'll be there."

The girl smiles again.

"Okay."

Actually, you already decided. You'll do it. It's not the fame or the responsibility or the prospect of power. It's the feeling that here, you might be able to _do_ something. Here, for once, there is your chance.


	4. Fourth Story: Ronee

**IV.**

A boy is the only one who's in the room when you enter. Blue hair, dark red eyes, his demon's tattoo curling around his neck in graceful patterns. You stop and seriously consider leaving again.

The girl walking in through the door seems hesitant, and when she sees you, she almost turns to leave. You decide it's your turn to talk.

"I'm Remy."

"Sion."

You stare at the demon carefully. He really doesn't know your name. You relax slightly.

"Is Ronee here? She told me to come."

"You're a future member of the Student Council as well?"

"She _asked _me to."

You get her immediately. She has been asked and she hasn't decided yet.

But she is here nonetheless.

You look at the girl closely.

Her hair is red and falls over her shoulders in long, pretty waves. Her eyes are green and grey; two ponds in her even face. She doesn't want to be here. Yet she is.

_How intriguing._

So he's going to be in the Council. You don't know if you want to know him better. He's interesting – blunt and direct, just like you. But other than that you have nothing in common. And he has nothing in common with Ronee, as you and her don't have anything in common.

But maybe… Maybe this is what you need.

* * *

The moment you enter the room that will be yours from the next semester on you see the two people you have elected. They don't know yet but they'll be the ones that will be with you always, no matter what happens and no matter what you do or say. You don't know it yet, either. You'll only realize eventually, in the course of the next few years. But already now, you know you've chosen them well.

Remy is blunt and direct and seems disinterested. But he's strong and intelligent and brilliant when it comes to unraveling magic.

Sion is introverted and arrogant but she's also kind and talented and better at performing magic than anyone her age you ever have seen.

You are strong-minded and cool-headed and you're able to see through every person as easily as other people see through a window.

You don't _seem _to have anything in common.

For a second, your gaze lingers on both of them. You know this will be it. You close the door behind you, pull up a chair so you can sit directly in front of them, and lean back.

"We are going to be the new Student Council."

What is left unspoken is: _I need you _and _you need me _and_ We belong together. _It's what you felt from the moment you saw them and what they _have _to feel, too, because they wouldn't be here otherwise.

There's a lot you have in common, even if it doesn't show on first sight.


End file.
